Amaranthine
by Ihelia
Summary: Scott Summers has always been mesmerized by Jean Grey. During their Senior Year, will his deepest desires come true? *CHAPTER 8 UP*
1. Prologue

**Amaranthine**  
_Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men characters. Marvel does. Just be nice with my ideas and that's all. Because this is a disclaimer. And I am disclaiming, bub. Ayup.   
Also, please note (for the curious people, that is) that one of the definitions of the word amaranthine is "everlasting." You can manipulate my implications to your liking ;)_

  
**_Prologue_**  
It was the beginning of autumn. The leaves had begun to morph their colors to deep shades of red and orange, growing crisp and lackadaisically falling to the ground. Scott Summers always held a deep appreciation for autumn. But today was the first day of school. 

And almost ironically, Scott had always dreaded it. 

But not today. This was his senior year. His big year to shine and show the world who Scott Summers really was. He could see it now: the fame, the glory, the girls. Though all he really wanted was the attention of one ..._Jean Grey_. The living, breathing, in-the-flesh epitome of everything Scott wanted. Not because she appeared perfect to everybody else, but she appeared perfect to Scott. And that's what mattered; no one else knew Jean like he did. And if Jean could only realize the way he-- 

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

Scott winced as the annoying repetitive beeps interrupted his thoughts. His eyebrows furrowed as he slammed his hand down on the "snooze" button. 

_Like that's ever going to happen, Summers_. 


	2. The Autumn Routine

  
  
Scott's toes curled beneath him as his bare feet met with the cold, wooden floor. He rubbed his eyes cautiously before placing his red glasses securely over his eyes. He blinked carefully (just like every other morning) to ensure that he wouldn't be a threat to anyone today. 

Within no time, Scott was ready to go. He sat patiently in the kitchen of the Insititute (to be more accurate, _The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters_) waiting for his fellow students to come waltzing down the stairs in their cheerful ways. 

_Or "bamfing"_ Scott thought with a slight chuckle. As if on cue, Kurt Wagner, whose mutant ability was teleporting, bamfed into a kitchen stool across from Scott. 

"Guten tag!" Kurt exclaimed happily. Scott slid his hand through his chestnut hair with a grin on his face. 

"Good day to you too, Kurt," Scott replied. 

Just then, Evan came skateboarding down the railing and into the kitchen. He barely paused to shove a piece of Kurt's toast into his mouth. Kurt couldn't contain himself and started chasing Evan, in an attempt to retrieve his food. 

As Kurt and Evan whizzed by, Rogue looked at them with an apparent disgust and rolled her eyes. She rounded the corner into the kitchen slowly, covering her mouth with her gloved hand as she yawned. Scott stared at her for a moment, studying her eccentric clothing for the day. Unfortunately, Rogue caught his eye and scowled at him. She scoffed passed him towards the fridge and poured herself a glass of orange juice and took the other piece of toast Kurt had been preparing. After eating a bite she turned to face Scott who stared back at her blankly. 

"Ah hope this wasn't yers," she said bluntly, waggling the piece of toast in front of Scott's face, "But if it was, then Ah guess it's too bad now." She continued munching on the toast as she lazily walked out of the Institute's kitchen to retrieve her school books from her room. 

Scott inhaled deeply, letting off an extremely elongated sigh. 

_Just like every other day._

  
Kurt, Evan, Rogue, and Scott were all waiting in the garage for Kitty and Jean to make their morning debuts. It wasn't uncommon for the girls to be late. And none of the others could possibly comprehend why the two just didn't wake up 10 minutes earlier. 

Kitty Pryde came rushing through the garage's wall, clutching her school books to her chest. 

"Sorry I'm late guys. The like, hair dryer broke and like..." 

"It's okay, Kitty. Like, at least yuh like, made it on time," Rogue said dryly, causing everyone to laugh. 

It didn't take long for Jean to come rushing into the garage, offer everyone a weak smile and plop herself into the front passenger seat. Scott smirked to himself as he jumped behind the wheel. He turned to Jean as he put the key into the ignition to start the car. 

"Are you sure you're ready now, Jean?" he asked playfully. She grinned at him and nodded in reassurance. He couldn't help but smile back. 

  
Jean Grey was sitting — alone — in the gardens of the Institute under the setting sun. The entire area was radiating with color; the trees were as luminous as a fiery torch, filled with warmth and passion. She always found comfort among the blazing trees. And perhaps it was because of Scott's interest in the season... 

She set her homework and books aside and folded her hands neatly over her lap. There was no spark within her that could make her work on any of her assignments. Maybe it was the fact that the Homecoming dance of her Senior year was approaching. And maybe it was the fact that she didn't know what was going to happen with the end of her high school career. But it didn't really matter to her. She'd always have the X-Men ...Right? 

Her thoughts were interrupted abruptly by a sudden crunch of leaves. She blinked a few times before lifting her head towards a figure. Scott Summers. The sun was directly behind him, making him appear like a Messiah to her worries. 

"Mind if I join you?" he asked gently. Jean shook her head and motioned for him to sit next to her. Scott stiffly took his place next to her on the bench. 

"You look like you've got something on your mind," he said slowly, leaning back a little and letting a yawn escape his lips. Scott slid his arm around her casually and pulled her in close, "Anything I can do?" Jean just turned and looked him with an appreciative smile. 

"Unless you can produce the answers to the universe... I don't think so." 

"Well, it's a pretty big request but I think I can handle it." Scott cocked his head back and flexed his free arm's muscle. Jean let out a soft laugh and beamed to him. 

"Nothing the amazing Cyclops can't handle, I'm sure," Jean answered as a-matter-of-factly. Scott chuckled loudly and tightened his grip around her waist. 

"But of course," he replied. The two didn't say much for a while. Daylight was fading away with each passing moment; Scott could hear the soft, gentle breaths that Jean was making. It was so rhythmatic and soothing... 

Slowly, Jean raised her eyes towards his, searching to find them behind his glasses. And even though she could barely see those eyes, she knew that they were staring right back at her. As if on impulse, Jean stood straight up and gathered her books from the bench. 

"I think dinner might be ready by now," she said quickly. Scott looked up at her, almost disappointed. Before he could reply, she had already begun walking away from him, leaving him alone in the now dark garden. 

  
After dinner, everyone had retreated to their rooms for whatever reasons. But not Scott. For some reason he couldn't focus on anything. He shoved his hands in his pockets, roaming the bare halls of the Institute. 

Before he knew it he had found himself in front of Jean's door. Coincidence or not, he couldn't help but desire to walk in and hold her within his arms. 

_Stop doing this to yourself, Scott_ he thought to himself. _She's never going to—_

The door latched open and Jean, clad in her silk night dress and a robe, stood before him, eyebrow arched. 

"I'm never going to do what?" She rested her hand on the door frame and tilted her head, clearly waiting for his answer. 

"It's not nice to eaves drop, Jean." 

"You were standing right outside my door, Scott. Of course I can hear you from in there. ...What's up?" 

He shrugged for a moment, letting his eyes fall to the floor. The last thing he wanted to do was look at Jean like _this_... clad only in her short night gown and robe. 

"I was just taking a walk before bed." 

"I can see that, Mr. Summers," she retorted, stifling a laugh. He shrugged and turned to continue his walk throughout the Institute. 

"Wait," Jean called suddenly, reaching her hand out to grab his arm. His head turned and looked down at her hand firmly grasping onto him, his gaze leading him up her body to her face. 

"Want to come in...?" her voice trailed off as she motioned for him to step into her room. Scott nodded before he even realized what he was doing. 

_Relax, Summers, you're just talking with her. You've done this lots of times._

Jean walked over to her bed and sat down with her legs tucked to the side. Scott sat on the edge of the bed, letting his feet brush the top of the floor of her room. He came out of his trance as he heard the door to Jean's room close somewhat forcefully. He turned to Jean and realized she had closed it with her telekinesis. 

"Impressive," he joked, unable to hold back a smirk. She let herself lie down on her bed, her red hair lying aimlessly in ever direction. Scott knew he couldn't look at her. Especially like this. 

"Scott.. after high school.. are you going to stay an X-Man?" Scott laid back and rolled onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. 

"Of course, Jean. Besides, I haven't got anything else." She nodded and turned on her side to face him. 

"I've been thinking about it a lot lately," she said hesitantly. He scooted closer to her and took her hand. 

"You should do what you want; you have everything going for you." He offered her a quick smile before standing up abruptly off the bed, their hands still linked together firmly. 

"And I understand if this isn't what you want to do with your life," he finished off, letting his hand slip out of hers. She sat up and let her legs dangle over the side of the bed. Just before he reached the door, Jean called out to him. 

"Thanks, Scott. You're such a good friend to me." He winced a little and nodded in reply. The handle was cold as he turned it, opening the door to the hallway. 

"Yeah.. well.. your welcome. You're my best friend. I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled quickly before closing the door behind him. 

"Night," Jean quietly said as she let the quiet, cold room take over her thoughts once more. 

  
Just before Scott reached his door, he heard a menacing growl from down the hall. 

"Yer outta bed, kid," Logan grunted, letting his body become dimly visible to Scott in the dark hallway. 

"I was just on my way to it," Scott replied, jerking his head to his door that was only a few strides away. 

"Yer lucky I'm in a good mood, bub. Or else I'd hafta tell the Professor about this," Logan threatened, clearly enjoying the amount of power he believed he had within the Institute. Scott shrugged, letting a loud yawn escape his lips. He marched past Logan and to his door, offering a slight mock-wave in Logan's direction. And even without looking back, Scott could tell that Logan was fuming.   



	3. Second Power Surge

  
  


"Ah, man! I'm never going to get this!" Kurt shouted vehemently, throwing his pencil onto the severely scribbled on homework in front of him. Jean laughed out loud in amusement, pointing to the equation. They were in the Institute's large, ornate library, hunched over a desk with chairs on either side. She took the pencil that was tucked behind her ear and drew it close to the paper to act as a pointer. 

"You just use the midpoint formula to solve it — like this." She proceeded in finishing the equation for him, following every step cautiously, to reassure that he'd pick up everything. 

"Done," Jean said triumphantly, twirling the pencil between her fingers, "Do you understand it now?" Kurt brought his few fingers to his chin as he studied the problem. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he clasped his hands together. 

"I get it, Jean! Danke!" he cried, wrapping his arms around her. She giggled, hugging him tightly back. 

"Don't mention it, Kurt." Jean gave him one last grin and stood up, walking cheerfully towards the door to the foyer. Scott stood up from his chair that was on the other side of the library and walked hastily over to Jean. 

"That was really nice of you to help him," he said earnestly, a tiny smile creeping up on his lips. She brushed loose strands of her fiery hair behind her head. 

"It was the nice thing to do. It's not like I don't do things for people," she added sheepishly, nudging his side to throw him off balance. 

"No, I know. He was just having trouble with it — that's all," he replied. She nodded her head slightly in agreement, walking aimlessly with Scott at her side throughout the Institute. Suddenly, she stopped mid-stride and arched her eyebrow at him. 

"What are you so nervous about, Scott? Your mind is a jumbled mess right now," she curiously asked him, shifting her weight from one heel to another. He stopped and turned to look at her, his eyebrows crunched down towards his glasses. 

"I—I uh.. I just thought that uh.. after all your hard work that you uh.. might like to get something to eat?" Her hand took his softly as she grinned up at him. 

"I'd love to." 

  
Jean rummaged through her closet to find her jean jacket. After countless minutes of putting a dent in her extremely chaotic pile of clothes, shoes, and among other things, she finally grabbed her black sweater to throw on over her tank top. 

_Ugh, why does this matter! Get a grip, Jean! You're just going out with Scott._

Her heart suddenly skipped a beat. 

_"You're just going out with Scott"_ she repeated inside her head. She wouldn't admit that she just liked the sound of it; the "going out" part. But that was a grim reminder of her infamous dating of Duncan, _the_ star player of Bayville High's football team and just about every other sport that the Bayville had to offer. 

_Duncan's your boyfriend. Duncan. Handsome, wealthy, normal... ....cocky, egotistical, arrogant, self-centered ... Duncan. No, Scott. But Duncan's your boyfriend.. but then Scott..._

Her mind began losing control of itself causing her closet doors to open and close rapidly, her windows to burst open, and her books shoot off their shelves. She clamped her hands around her head tightly, trying to suppress the chaos that resided inside her mind. 

_Stop it... Just stop.. Scott... no, just stop.. please.. stop —_

"Scott!" she cried, squeezing her eyes shut, throwing every ounce of energy that she had left into stopping her mind from growing more and more scattered. All the books stopped in mid air, the windows froze in their slamming furies, and the doors stopped dead in their disorderly acts. Jean felt her knees give in and then give way to her body as she collapsed to the ground with a large thud. 

  
Scott trailed his finger along the border of the hallway to Jean's room with the other hand shoved in his pocket, all the while whistling as he walked. As he approached Jean's room, he heard a sudden heart wrenching "Scott!" come from behind the closed doors. 

"Jean? Jean!" Scott jumped furiously in front of the door and tried to open it, finding it to be locked tight. 

_Professor.. something's wrong with Jean! Please come to her room as soon as you can!_ Scott thought desperately, hoping to connect swiftly with the Professor. Luckily he sent Scott a quick _I'm already on my way_ to reassure him that everything would be alright. Frantically, Scott rattled the knobs before submitting himself to using his optic blasts. He lifted his sunglasses only slightly to aim a blast of force to the knob, letting the door open with ease. 

Rogue came running down the hall towards Scott, panting heavily. 

"Is she ahlright?" she managed to gasp out, raising her hand to rest on her chest to help catch her breath. However, Scott had already rushed inside to Jean. He slid his arms under her and cradled her for a moment, lightly shaking her in hopes to wake her. 

"Jean? Jean? Open your eyes. Please, Jean!" he cried out, wiping her frazzled hair out of her face. Professor Xavier sped into the room with Logan closely behind him. 

"What happened in here, bub? Did you do this?!" Logan accused openly to Scott. His eyes were full of contempt and loathing. 

"Why would I want to hurt her?" he shot back, unable to control his rage, "The last thing I'd want to do is—" 

"That's enough, Scott," Professor Xavier said calmly, rolling over towards Jean's limp body, "It appears she had another 'power surge' of some kind. It's hard to say what exactly happened however." While the Professor explained this, Scott began searching Jean's face, trying to find some hint of life from her unconscious state. Logan looked down at him condescendingly. 

"You want to get her to the infirmary, Charles?" he asked, clearly annoyed. Professor Xavier shook his head politely. 

"She just needs some rest. She should be fine by the morning." He then turned to Scott who looked up at the Professor with glossy eyes that fortunately couldn't be seen through his glasses. Logan grunted forcefully and walked quickly out the door. He grunted again at Rogue who sat watching the incident with a look mixed between satisfaction and fear. 

"Help put her in bed, Scott. I'll be in my room if you need anything." And with that he sped out of the room, only pausing briefly to smile at Rogue on his way out. He then tilted his head to motion for Rogue to leave. She shut the door to Jean's room, crossed her arms stiffly and turned on her heels to march straight to her own room. 

  
_"Help put her in bed, Scott"_ he repeated inside his head. _Thanks for helping, Professor_ he scoffed as he laid Jean down on her bed. He slid his arms roughly into his pockets, contemplating if he should get her out of her clothes. _Don't be stupid, Summers_ he annoyingly thought, _The Professor didn't mean to get her dressed for bed..._ He glanced down at Jean, who was sleeping peacefully. Whether Scott's decision to get her dressed for bed was conscious or not, he was already searching through her drawers for some clothes she'd wear to bed. 

He opened the second to last drawer and to his surprise, he didn't find any articles of clothing. Instead, the contents of the drawer appeared to be keepsakes, notes, photographs. The one thing that caught his eye, however, was a diary. Jeweled, engraved, and unlocked. Cautiously, he glanced back at Jean to make sure she was still asleep. Hesitantly, he gulped down his morals and opened the diary to the first page. 

Scribbled in perfect cursive writing: 

  
_The Diary of Jean Grey _

A documentation of life through her eyes. 

....Don't read this please! =D 

  
Scott gulped, even though his mouth was dry from his anticipation. He turned the page again to find her first entry. Oddly enough, it wasn't dated. 

  
_Dear Diary, _

I'm at The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters now. Professor Charles Xavier is helping me control my mind. It's really nice of him. I really like it here and am hoping to meet some other people like me. I've already met one boy. Scott Summers. He can't open his eyes but he's really nice to talk to. He doesn't make fun of me either for my "psychotic" problems. 

I think the Professor is looking into the technology to help him see. I hope he finds out how to help him. He really wants to see. The Professor is really helpful so I'm sure he'll come up with something. 

Miss Ororo is really nice too. She's already offered to help me unpack. It was thoughtful. 

And then there's Logan. Who I think just tries to make people feel intimidated but is really a nice guy deep down. I guess only time will tell. 

I really think I'm going to like it here. 

Sincerely,  
Jean Grey 

  
Something inside Scott made him keep the diary peeled open in front of him. Frantically, he flipped through the diary and stopped somewhere randomly in the middle and started reading. 

  
_Dear Diary, _

I'm an X-Man now! I can't believe it! I'm able to use my gift to help people now! I'm so excited! 

Love,  
Jeannie 

P.S. I have a crush! Hee hee! I can't believe it! Nerdy me. Too bad he doesn't notice me. Oh well, at least I can hope! I won't say his name to protect the innocent! Hee hee! 

  
"Duncan," he muttered softly, letting off a slight grunt to show his annoyance. Again he flipped to a random page in the diary and started reading once more. 

  
_Dear Diary, _

Duncan asked me if I'd do certain things with him that I'd rather not disclose. Well, asking would be an understatement. It was more like he told me to do these things. It made me really uncomfortable and I'm not really positive I want to do anything like that. Well, with him I mean. I don't love him. And as of late, I certainly don't feel like I trust him... 

Yet I'm with him. And I think that makes it so awful. But then there's (something scribbled out many times) _... No. Not in here, I can't say that. _

- Jean 

  
"Scott...?" Jean asked weakly, unable to lift her head to truly look at him. His hands dropped the diary sloppily back into the drawer that he took it from. On impulse, he slammed the drawer shut and whizzed around to look at her. It was obvious she just woke up. 

"Is everything okay? What happened?" She tried to lift herself from the bed but failed miserably. He dashed over to her and sat down on the bed. 

"You need to rest. You lost control of your telekinesis somehow. It's alright though — it happens," he quipped, trying to lighten her curiosity. She let off a long sigh and turned her head to look at him. 

"..What were you doing in my dresser?" She smirked slightly, amused at how stiff he had instantly become. 

"I was.. I was... Well the um.. Professor.. He told me to uh — to help. Yes, to help you get into bed. And I just thought that you needed something um.. more comfortable. Yes — more comfortable," Scott blurted out, stuttering the entire time. She placed her hand on his knee and smiled. 

"Thank you," she said quietly. He let off an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. They both grew silent for a few minutes, taking in each others' presence. 

"I'll go get you some clothes," he answered, heading over to her dresser. He opened the very last drawer on the bottom (the last one left) and sure enough, he found her stash of pajamas. Quickly, he snatched a pair of pajama pants and a tank top. He lifted them in front of her. 

"Are these alright?" he managed to choke out, staring back at her warm smile that made him feel flushed. 

"They're perfect," she honestly replied. With much effort she took them from him, motioned for him to turn around, and began to change. Scott leaned against the dresser to steady his nerves which were unavoidably acting up. He glanced into the mirror that hung to his left and saw Jean's bare back, being that she obviously had put her back to him as well. He rapidly blinked several times and tried to calm himself down. 

_Stop it, Scott. STOP. Think of other, unstimulating things, dammit,_ he thought frantically. He glanced one more time into the mirror to see Jean turning around, the tank top just barely covering her breasts. She slowly pulled the rest of it down and gathered her hair into two chopsticks. 

"You can turn around, Scott," she said as she sat back down on the bed. He turned around, revealing his flushed face and extremely tense forehead. 

"I uh.. I guess I should go now," he managed to say forcefully, bolting for the door. He paused momentarily to turn and look at Jean, whose eyes were dancing at him, "Do you need anything else before I go?" 

"Well," she said almost seductively, "I could really use a good night kiss." Scott froze at the door, his face turning from flushed to pale in a matter of seconds. 

"Please?" He gulped and walked over to her slowly, almost in a trance. 

"If you insist..." he whispered. He knelt down and brought his lips her forehead. Instantly, he felt a warmth rush through his body. Hers. It threw him off balance and led him to clumsily head for the door. 

"Uh.. g—good ni—night, J—Jean," he stuttered out. With that he ran out the door, clearly upset with his self- dubbed "embarrassing" behavior. 

Jean couldn't stop smiling. 

  
_Sorry for not updating in a few days! I've been so busy with work but I'm back and have the next chapter halfway done! I really hope you like the fic. Comments, feedback, reviews — all that good stuff is great to hear! Thank you :) _

- Sarah 


	4. The Release

  
  


Jean stared out of her bedroom window longingly. The leaves on all of the trees had transformed into blood reds, burnt oranges, and majestic yellows. The air was growing colder and more crisp. And a small frost had fallen over the Institute's many acres the night before, leaving a cold morning dew on everything. She could see it all but yet still found herself in bed. Not that she should be out of it — her head was pounding from the previous night's events. It was well in the middle of the day and the rest of the Institute's students were at school. 

_It's been so long since I've actually missed a day..._ She leaned back against her pillows and closed here eyes. _I guess we all need our days off every once in a while._

"Ahh, Jean. You're awake," Ororo's tall, lean figure walked through the door with enviable grace and elegance, "I hope you're feeling better this morning?" Jean shrugged her shoulders and brought her hand to her head. 

"I have a headache." Ororo chuckled softly and placed her hand on Jean's head. 

"As to be expected," Ororo replied. She paused for a moment, apparently deep in thought. Jean tilted her head, curious as to what Ororo was thinking. Her telekinesis was too weak right now for her to hear thoughts. And her head certainly hurt too much for Jean to strain herself. "Can I ask what caused your mind to lose control last night, Jean?" 

"I... I don't know." It was a blatant lie — of _course_ Jean knew what was troubling her. The problem was admitting it. Especially to Ororo. And yet, Ororo was someone she definitely trusted. 

"I just have a lot on my mind lately," Jean added, trying to recover from her obviously fake statement; Jean knew exactly what was bothering her. Ororo closed her eyes slowly and reopened them, hoping to make Jean feel more relaxed. She brought her hand to lift Jean's chin so that Jean would have direct, unwavering eye contact with her. 

"If there's anything you want to talk about, just know you can always come to me." Jean's lips curled into a broad smile. 

"Thank you, Ororo. Though I really am fine. I'm still training my mind anyways." Ororo stood up and swiftly moved over to the door. She gave one last smile to Jean and walked out, leaving the door ajar. 

_You're a terrible liar, Jean_, Ororo thought to herself, letting a small chuckle escape her ruddy lips. _Terrible_. 

  


With her legs curled up to her chest and her arms wrapped securely around them, Jean sat in solitude on the fountain's ledge that rested in the courtyard. Jean was waiting for everyone to get home from school; she found that being alone in the Institute with no one near her age was surprisingly boring. Dr. McCoy was off working on some new invention, Logan was too secretive and stiff to have a true conversation with (and it was impossible to have a conversation with him that excluded the degrading expressions "bub" or "kid" and his condescending tone). Jean had already talked to Ororo (who kept giving her a skeptical eye whenever their paths crossed) and to Jean's knowledge, the Professor was currently using Cerebro to find future recruits for the Institute. All in all, there was nothing to do and no one there to just "hang out" with. 

"Ah! 'Ello Jean!" Kurt called out from the car that sped down the driveway not to far from where she was sitting. Kurt instantly bamfed next to her, sending her to jump backwards. A loud splash of cold water erupted from the aesthetic fountain. Kurt gasped loudly and brought one of his hands to his forehead. 

"Oh no! I'm so sorry, Jean! I didn't mean to!" Kurt declared, reaching his hand into the fountain to help Jean out. Kitty, Rogue, Evan, and Scott had already started running over to see what was going on. Jean's hand found Kurt's quickly but instead of her being pulled out, she jerked him in. His fall in splashed everyone else with the frigid water. Jean flipped her sopping wet hair out of her face and grinned at Kurt. 

"Apology accepted." 

  


_KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK._

"Jean? Are you in there?" Scott shouted, his ear pressed faintly against her door to see if she was answering, "I'm coming in!" he proclaimed as a fair warning, "And you better be decent," he muttered under his breath as he opened the door. No one. Quietly, he stepped into her room and looked around with a little more effort. The door to her bathroom was ajar only slightly and he could hear something from inside. 

"Have you ever seen such a beautiful night? 

I could almost kiss the stars for shining so bright. 

When I see you smiling I go 'Oh oh oh!' 

I would never want to miss this 

'Cause in my heart I know what this is. 

This is what dreams are—" 

The singing from inside stopped suddenly. 

"Is someone there?" Jean questioned loudly. Scott froze, not making a sound. Instead he leaned his head through the door to see what Jean was doing. Through the clear, yet blurred plastic curtain, Scott could make out Jean's nude body inside the shower. He suddenly felt very lightheaded and stumbled backwards. 

"Hello?" she asked again, even more loudly this time. Still Scott said nothing. He dashed to the door and closed it quietly behind him. Beads of sweat had begun to form on his head and his face was clearly flushed. He let off a harsh sigh and began walking away from her door. 

"Scott! Like, Scott come back here!" Kitty yelled to him. He paused to turn his head to look at her, hoping that he didn't look as lightheaded and flushed as he felt. 

"Were you like, just in Jean's room?" 

"Yeah, so?" he retorted, trying to look casual and disinterested. 

"So like, you do know that she was in the _shower_?!" 

"Yeah but that's because I head the shower running. I didn't actually go—" 

"Like, just totally _save it_, Summers! You perv!" she shrieked, sneering at him as she walked by. He exhaled sharply and brought his hand to his face. 

_What a day._

  


"Hurry up, Grey!" Evan bellowed from the foyer, "I've got a math test first period, man! I can't be late!" Rogue tried to stifle her laughter with little effort. 

"And since when do you care about tests and school?" she questioned, knowing that she — in fact — was right. Evan grinned. 

"Since seeing Jean in a rush became amusing." Just then, Jean came rushing down the stairs, failing horribly at keeping her balance. Rogue glared at her condescendingly while Evan widened his eyes in amusement. Jean stopped on the last step and shifted her books in her arms. 

"I don't have an excuse for being late so I won't bother making one," she said bluntly with a grin. Rogue rolled her eyes. 

"Let's just go. We'll be lucky if Scott, Kurt and Kitty are still here." Evan mounted his skateboard and headed outside. 

"I doubt Scott would leave us behind!" he called back as he zoomed towards the garage. Jean glanced at Rogue who immediately blew her off and ran out the door. Even though she was overwhelmed, Jean ran outside with confidence. Because today was the day where she'd finally be free of it all. 

  


Scott slammed his locker shut and twirled the lock between his fingers. He turned quickly, leaning against the line of lockers that inhabited Bayville High's hallways. It was hard for him to focus on Kitty, who was ranting endlessly in front of him over his "perverted" invasion of Jean's privacy last night. He couldn't keep his eyes off Jean, who had unfortunately found her way over to Duncan. Or perhaps Duncan had found his way over to her. Either way, Jean wasn't with Scott. And that meant everything. And currently meant that there was nothing. 

_What does she see in him?_ He didn't want to think about it. Thinking about what he couldn't change tore him up inside. But maybe he could change it. Maybe not. But he couldn't help but feel so enraged to see her with _him_. 

"Like, thanks for even _listening_ to me!" Kitty shouted, having to strain her neck to look up at Scott's tall figure. Before he could even react to her, she stormed off muttering words (that were rather juvenile at that) under her breath. 

"Oops.." Scott answered out loud, too late for it to even matter, of course. He let out a sigh between his lips and started walking down the hall to the quad where he'd get to eat his lunch in peace, in hopes to get his mind off things. 

"Leave me alone, Duncan! I'm telling you _it's over_!" Jean cried out, pushing her way passed him. Before she could evade his grasp, Duncan latched onto her arm tightly and viciously glared at her, smirking all the while. She tried to wriggle free but he was far too strong. Scott turned around, only to see Duncan plant a forceful, undesired kiss upon Jean's lips. She immediately spat on him and used her telekinesis to release his firm grasp from around her arm. Scott ran over and pulled Jean aside, just in time to keep Duncan's hand for slapping her across the face. 

"Well well well. If it isn't the King of the Freaks, Scott Summers." Duncan proclaimed coyly, hoping to inflict as much damage onto Scott as he could. Scott hardly flinched in reply; his gaze on Duncan strong and unshakable. "What's the matter, Summers? Your glasses blinding you from seeing Jean and me having a discussion?" He then focused his attention on Jean. 

"You were a complete waste of time," he shot out, causing her to cower backwards into Scott's muscular frame, "If only you could have realized why I was in it from the start. Too bad I overestimated what a prude, worthless bitch like you was willing to do." 

Jean sank to the floor, shielding her face with one of her hands, her hair dangling weakly in front of her face. Scott tried to put his hands on her shoulders, only causing her to jerk backwards. He looked from side to side suspiciously, discovering a undesirably large crowd had formed around them. Desperately, he tried one more time to place his hands over her defeated body. 

_Jean. It's alright. It's me. I won't leave you._

Jean pressed her hands hard against the chilled tile floor, now moist with her tears. With all her strength, she stood up and turned away from Duncan, whose eyes were hungrily waiting for some petty reply that she wouldn't sink to say. 

"Please take me home, Scott." Her voice sounded desperate — inconsolable. Scott nodded calmly, only to immediately shoot a menacing glare at Duncan. Jean marched forward, not letting her anger consume her. The crowd around them parted as she walked by; their voices whispering wildly with the new gossip that was aching to be spread, their eyes darting violently in hopes to catch every detail of the moment. Scott trailed closely behind her, hoping that he'd somehow be able to take care of her despairing heart. 


	5. These Burning Tears

  
  


She stopped crying about an hour ago. But she hadn't said much after that. A small, faint whimper would escape her lips every couple of minutes. Scott didn't break the silence either. In fact, he welcomed it. So did Jean. Even through all her heartbreak and torment, just having Scott there, knowing that he _cared_... that meant so much to her. _I mean, we're best friends. It should mean something... right?_ Jean turned her torso to face Scott. She clutched the bottom of her hair to keep the wind from blocking her gaze on him. He must have caught her eye or felt her looking on him because he turned himself to look at her, still without saying a word. 

It was the middle of the day — the peak. Everything was at its best. The sun was radiating its gentle light across upstate New York, giving a soft addition of warmth to the cold front moving in. The fallen leaves tumbled around in a gust of wind, their motions languid and delicate. Scott Summers and Jean Grey sat quietly together in Scott's convertible. He had parked them at a common look out spot that overlooked the town of Bayville. It wasn't romantic; wasn't that sort of spot at all. Well, at least right now. 

It took every ounce of strength to keep Scott from reaching out to her, to embrace her, to kiss her — somehow be close to her. But he felt it was his place to keep his distance. Whether Jean felt the same way was irrelevant. 

"Thank you for giving me a ride from school," Jean said, her voice barely above a whisper. Even through Scott's red visors, he could still tell her eyes were still red from fresh tears, her face splotchy with embarrassment and pain. Was it so wrong of him to think she still looked beautiful? He felt that way, at least. Another breeze blew by, stronger now, letting Jean's hair blow undesirably within the winds grasp. 

"It's okay, Jean. You really don't have to thank me." Jean nodded and Scott could have sworn he heard her say "I know," but he immediately shook those thoughts from his head. 

"I really admire what you did," Scott said finally, "It took a lot of strength to stand up to him. I.. I just admire it, that's all." Jean brought her hand to her neck and looked down at her knees modestly. For some reason she just didn't want to talk about it, no matter how much he wanted her to. 

"You really took it well," he added, with more enthusiasm. Jean shook her head roughly. 

"Just drop it," she finally said, clearly annoyed. Scott took the hint and remained quiet. It really wasn't his place to say anything after all. 

Jean closed her eyes slowly and took in a long, deep breath. _Cold,_ Jean thought monotonously, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn't realize how cold she was until now. Maybe her crying had distracted her. But that didn't change the fact that she was cold now. Suddenly she felt something covering the front of her. She opened her eyes to see Scott deathly close to her, wrapping his leather jacked around her. She tried to shrug it off but he persisted. 

"What are you doing?" she asked coldly, staring at him almost maliciously. 

"Um, giving you my jacket?" he replied, somewhat confused. 

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone. And I don't need _you_." Jean blurted out, pushing his coat and arms away from her. She turned her body away from him and exited the car quickly. She slammed the door and walked forcefully over near the edge of the cliff and sat down on the grass. She hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face between them. Her tears were beginning to flow again. _CLICK._ Jean heard Scott's door open and close quietly. She could hear his footsteps against the gravel and then the soft thud of his weight on the grass. He sat down next to her, one leg bent and the other extended forward. Even though Jean knew Scott had seen her crying again, she shielded her face even more. 

_I didn't mean that,_ she said to him quietly in a mind link. He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes wide open and glossy with compassion. Luckily, they weren't visible through his glasses; if this was good or bad was hard to say. 

"I know," he said aloud. She turned to look at him, letting him get a look of her defeated face once more. He still thought she looked beautiful. 

"I heard that," she answered quietly, a faint smile on her face. Scott shrugged his shoulders and slid closer to her. He put his arm across her shoulders, letting it dangle loosely to one side of her. She looked down at his hand and then to him. _Why haven't I noticed it before...?_

"Scott.. I —" He quickly shushed her by bringing his other hand to her lips. 

"It's okay," he whispered, sliding his hand down her arm, then tightening his grip around her. Jean's body felt electrified with his warmth as he held her. She rested her head on Scott's broad shoulder, he then resting his head on hers. Her hair was wonderfully smooth and like silk; he loved the feeling of it brushing against his face. Instantly, Jean lifted her lips and kissed his neck. Once. Twice. Three times. Scott pulled away sharply. He knew she was in a vulnerable state. And though he wanted her to continue — honestly, he did — he just knew he couldn't take advantage of her like that. He didn't want to hurt himself and he especially didn't want to hurt her. 

"Let's go home," he said quickly, not wanting to have anything else progress out here. He offered his hand to her but she refused it and walked by him, her arms wrapped around her in an attempt to stay warm. He sat down in the car, started it up and began driving back to the Institute. Scott knew he had done the right thing. 

_So why do I feel like I did something terribly wrong?_

  


Scott pulled the car into the garage. Jean hadn't even looked at him the entire ride; she wasn't going to start now. She immediately exited the car, not looking back for one second. Jean knew she couldn't go back to Scott to talk about it. And she definitely didn't want to talk about it with anyone else. The truth was that she was alone. And she had left Scott to be alone in the garage. Inevitably, that didn't make her a better person. She put her hand to her head and squinted her eyes shut. _What is wrong with me?_

Jean looked across the grounds of the Institute, noticing for the first time that the sun was almost done setting, it's colors dulled with the night sky. She raised her head to admire the stars, a wave of nostalgia overcoming her. For a moment she forgot about the cold, forgot about her heart break, forgot about the X-Men, forgot about everything. But then why was Scott's face imprinted in her eyes, haunting the very sky in which she was viewing. 

"Nice night," Scott said, finally revealing himself from the garage. Somehow, Jean could tell that he wasn't hurt, really; sure his face looked flushed, and his eyes... well, she couldn't really see what they were saying to her. The thought sent a stab of regret into her side. His eyes. She ached to see them so badly. Seeing him there standing before her made her feelings buckle and flow freely. 

"I'm sorry, Scott. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'd never want to hurt you. I just, I'm in so much pain and I don't know why; it's tearing me up inside don't you see!? Duncan hurt me so badly. He used me — made me feel bad about myself and convinced me I wasn't good enough. He told me he was going to make me do things with him and today when I thought I had gotten rid of it all, I just couldn't stand up for myself! It kills me just thinking about it — I'm so incredibly weak! I need everything to disappear so I'll never have to deal with anything again." Jean choked out, her voice growing from incredibly soft to loud and forceful. He didn't have to say anything. And he didn't. Scott moved toward Jean and wrapped his arms around her, letting his chin rest atop her head. At first, Jean was surprised, but willingly let her body melt within his embrace. She slid her arms up his torso and wrapped them around his neck. The tears had come again. But they didn't burn this time. 

All she could feel was him holding her. And that was all she wanted to feel. 

  


  
_Hey, I know it's kinda shorter than the other chapters.. but come on... I liked it like this. Expect many more chapters soon! I'm off of work for a week!hurrah. But don't be too expectant as I'll be occupied over this coming weekend. That said, I think I'll go write some more now. Keep the feedback coming :D _

- Sarah 


	6. Thunderstorm

  
  
Either of them didn't know how long they had been standing there, but Scott could feel his feet pounding in his shoes after standing so long. He still had his arms wrapped around Jean, hers around his neck. And they were still holding each other just as tightly as they had started. Needless to say, Scott liked it. Sure they had hugged each other plenty of times. But not like this — this _meant_ something to him. And that made all the difference. After what seemed like an eternity, Scott slowly pulled himself away from Jean to look at her for the first time. 

She was sparkling. Her eyes were dancing; a filmy glare from her tears blanketed them. Her entire skin was illuminated by the moon's light, making her eyes appear like the only thing that mattered. Ever. At least to Scott. 

"I'm sorry," Jean said quietly, not taking her eyes away from him — he liked seeing them too much. He squeezed her arms tightly and smiled warmly. It sent chills through Jean's body. 

"It's okay. Just know that I'm here for you," Scott answered sincerely. Jean smiled back. For some reason she felt compelled to look away from Scott. Maybe he was staring at her too much. Or at least in that general direction. 

_How... how did I get here?_ she thought monotonously, a flash of events appearing inside her head. _There was Duncan, then Scott. Then me kissing Scott on the neck. Then the ride ho—_ her eyes widened for a moment. _D-did I... Did I do that?_ She looked back up at Scott — his eyebrows furrowed as he mused in watching her think. 

"Something wrong?" he inquired, curious to understand her. She shook her head in reply. 

"No, no. Everything's fine," she said, pausing briefly to think once more, "I think we should go inside now." 

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Scott wrapped his arm over Jean's shoulder to keep her warm as he led her over the grounds to the front doors of the Institute. 

  
It was raining now. Or perhaps it was sleeting. Regardless of the form of the weather, it was a loud thunderstorm. The lightening and thunder crashed and lit up the night sky periodically. It was relatively late and there was hardly a sound in the Institute. Jean had skipped dinner and locked herself in her room. The rest of the students and the adults didn't need to ask Scott about what happened at school today — it was hard not to know. 

Jean had always hated thunderstorms. But loved rain. But the thunder and the lightening always scared her, though she wasn't sure why. Her childhood was too blurry for her to really remember if there was some traumatic incident or not. Not that it mattered — she just hated not having a root to a problem. And a path to a solution. 

_Psst, hey! Scott — it's me, Jean! Open up!_ she sent in a mind link into Scott's bedroom. Before she knew it, the door clicked open and Scott's body was hovering over her. He raised an eyebrow and leaned against the door frame. 

"Need something?" he asked stiffly, his head tilted down to look at her. She waltzed past him and into his room and sat down on the bed. 

"You know I hate thunderstorms," she said. He walked slowly over to the bed and sat down next to her. 

"I still don't see why, Jean. You're almost 18 and you're still scared of them. It _is_ a bit childish," he added mockingly. Jean crossed her arms and turned her head away from him. 

"At least I don't pretend like I'm not scared — like you." Scott chuckled lowly to himself. 

"You caught me. I really do hate storms," he said sarcastically. Almost on cue, a large flash of lightening followed by a clap of thunder made Scott jump from the bed in a sudden panic. Jean didn't even attempt to stifle her giggling. To recover from his sudden behavior, Scott slicked his hair back coolly and laid down on his bed. 

"Can I stay in here tonight?" Jean asked instantly as she laid down next to him. He lifted his head to her, a look of disbelief across his face. 

"Y-you.. you want to stay in here t-tonight?" Scott stuttered out, realizing what she was asking him. 

"I know it's against Institute rules..." Jean's voice trailed off. The two of them sat in silence for a few moments. She took a quick breath and started up again. 

"I'm really hurt right now and I need to be with someone," she added. Another boom of thunder made them both flinch. She smirked seductively and rolled her eyes, "And besides, I just can _not_ stand being _alone_ in my room during _this_." Scott blinked a few times, too enraptured by her request to let it actually sink in. He knew he must have told her "sure" because she had started pulling the covers up around herself. Without thinking, he did the same. He rolled on his side, his eyes meeting with hers even though she couldn't see them. 

"Are you... feeling any better?" he finally asked, her eyes closing slowly to the question. Jean slid one of her hands under her head to prop it up a bit more. 

"I am now," she replied with a warm smile. Scott smiled back and closed his eyes. 

_'Night_ he said in his thoughts, hoping she'd be able to hear him. After a minute or so, he could hear Jean's voice ringing in his head. 

_Good night_. 

  
Scott mumbled softly as he stirred from his sleep. The sun was beaming through his windows; apparently it had overpowered the thunderstorm from the previous night. He tilted his head, realizing that Jean was pressed up against him, her head resting peacefully on his bare chest, red hair draped over him. Scott smiled weakly at Jean. She looked so peaceful — like nothing could possibly be plaguing her. But the truth of the matter was that there was something plaguing her. And the last thing Scott wanted to do was wake Jean up from her sleep — her mind's only time to be on a true relaxing "vacation." Scott didn't feel bad for Jean and her powers, however. Besides, she wouldn't want the sympathy. 

A soft moan escaped Jean's lifts as she began to wake. Her eyes fluttered open, tickling Scott's chest. She raised her head to look at him and smiled. 

"You sleep okay?" he asked. Jean rested her chin on his chest, her smile growing. 

"I did. Thank you," she said in reply as she gathered her red hair behind her. Scott shifted awkwardly in the bed. 

"We better not get in trouble for this," Scott said hesitantly, knowing that there could and would be consequences for Jean's little sleep over. Jean sat up, stretched her arms above her head and yawned. Scott stared at her, eyes wide with admiration — she was so beautiful in the morning. Well, not _just_ the morning. 

"It'll be fine," Jean replied, hoping to reassure him, "Besides, we can't be grounded for this." 

"Why's that?" he questioned, somewhat confused. 

"The party at Meredith's place tonight — remember?" 

"Is it really Saturday?" 

"Yeah, thank God. I'd hate to have to face school after... you know..." Jean's voice trailed off for a moment. 

"Won't Duncan be there?" 

"I don't know. Probably. But I could care less," Jean answered defensively. She let a long sigh escape her pouty lips. Scott stared at her. 

"I guess I'll go. I don't know though." 

"Well I know Kitty's going. And I think Kurt is too," Jean added, hoping to give Scott more incentive. 

"Maybe," he finally said. 

"I'll take that as a yes, Mr. Summers." 

  
"Like, oh my God! This is going to be the most totally cool party like, ever!" Kitty shrieked, jumping up and down in her seat at the kitchen table, "I can't believe I got asked to go by some Senior!" she yelped, unable to contain her joy. Kurt brought one of his hands to his head and sighed. Rogue revealed herself from around the corner and walked over to the fridge to get her daily glass of orange juice. 

"They hand out those damn flyers to everyone, Kitty. Quantity is what matters for these parties, not quality," Rogue added coolly, running a gloved hand through her hair as she took a swig of her drink. Kitty huffed at her and crossed her arms. 

"Just because _you_ didn't get asked doesn't mean that you can rag on me for being asked!" 

"Even if Ah did get a flyer, Ah wouldn't go to some stupid party like that. Ah've got better things to do," Rogue replied, pushing herself away from the counter she was leaning on, "And if yuh don't mind, Ah'm going to go do one of those things right now." And with that, Rogue walked out of the kitchen, leaving Kitty, Evan, and Kurt to eat their breakfast in peace. 

"Well, at least we won't have to hear her bitch about the 'shitty main-stream noise that isn't worthy of being defined as music' the entire time tonight," Evan added with a grin. Kurt and Kitty chuckled lightly knowing that Evan was right. Suddenly, Scott came into the kitchen and walked directly to the fridge to hunt for some breakfast. 

"Good morning to you, too, dude," Evan said sarcastically, somewhat insulted that Scott had not even acknowledged the others in the room. Scott let a soft grunt escape his lips as he pulled out a Tupperware filled with last night's spaghetti dinner. He grabbed a fork from the drawer and began eating. 

"So how's she doing?" Kurt asked curiously, wondering how Jean was coping with the entire ordeal. Scott didn't even look up from his pasta as he shrugged his shoulders stiffly. Kitty moved in closer to Scott and poked him in the chest. 

"You so totally know all the details and you like, are being a butthead about it." 

"Maybe I don't want to talk about it," Scott answered back. All the others stared at him confused as to why he was being so moody about the whole thing. 

"What happened between you two after you guys blew off lunch, fifth, and sixth? And why did you guys not even make an appearance until after dinner?" Evan inquired, trying to get details about yesterday. Scott stared back at him blankly, chewing unrelentlessly on his spaghetti. Without saying a word, he walked stiffly out of the room, leaving Kurt, Kitty, and Evan alone again. Suddenly, Evan's eyes lit up. 

"Oh wait a minute. Those two... Ohhh, I get it now," Evan exclaimed triumphantly. Kitty grabbed Evan's arm and stared up at him excitedly. 

"What do you get? He like, hasn't even told us anything yet." 

"They were.. you know," Evan said slyly, smirking the entire time. 

"We obviously like, don't know, Evan." 

Evan just shook his head as he walked out of the kitchen with a stupid smirk glued to his face. Kurt and Kitty could have sworn they heard him cackle from down the hall. Kitty arched an eyebrow to Kurt who shook his head, confused at the entire morning. 

"Like, since when is he, like, the brains of this institution?" 

  


  
_I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. I went on my mini-vacation but am definitely back in business. Hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Expect Chapter 6 very soon! Please leave me some feedback — it's always a good motivational tool :) _

- Sarah 


	7. Speak for Yourself

  
  


Scott kicked a pile of multi-colored leaves damp with the autumn morning's dew across the sidewalk. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his head was sulking. In all truth, he should have been elated — he felt so close to Jean last night. But when she was sleeping— 

_Goddammit!_ Scott thought viciously as he kicked a second pile of fallen leaves harder, _And to think I was actually considering asking her to... to..._ Scott stopped in his tracks and looked up at all of the now bare trees around him. Suddenly, a deep chuckle escaped from inside of him. It grew and grew, louder and more fierce with each moment. Before he could contain himself, Scott was roaring with laughter. 

Scott always dwelled on the little things. Because in the long run, he knew that it was those things that mattered. 

All of his laughter stopped instantly with one thought, _But, why...? Why did she call for Duncan in her sleep?_

"Boo," a southern voice said monotonously. Scott whipped around to see Rogue leaning against a thick tree, her arms crossed. He tried desperately to look innocent and free of tension. By the way she was looking at him, he could tell he was not successful in this. 

"Can I help you?" Scott asked convincingly. 

"What was that scowl on yer face for this morning?" 

"I, uh, I had a hard time falling asleep last night," he said, half lying, half telling the truth. He _did_ have a hard time sleeping at first — seeing Jean next to him made him ecstatic. Until of course, she mumbled "Duncan" a few times. His face turned sour at the thought. 

"Nah see, that's it again," Rogue said triumphantly. Scott blinked a few times to remove the face. 

"Ah know Jean and you slept in your room last night," Rogue added as she began to take long, lingering strides toward Scott. He gulped. 

"You're not going to tell Professor Xavier, are you?" He asked nervously. Rogue laughed and shook her head. 

"Ah really have no interest in that," she said reassuringly. Scott let out a deep sigh of relief, "Ah'm just wonderin' why yuh looked so pissed ahff this mornin'." 

"I've just got a lot on my mind," he said defensively. Rogue threw her hands up in frustration and turned on her heels to go back inside. 

"Yer impossible." 

"Yeah," he said soft enough for her not to hear, "Yeah, I know." 

  
Jean covered her mouth politely as she yawned loudly, causing Kitty to giggle. The two girls were sitting, both cross-legged, on Kitty's bed. 

"So, like, are you and Scott a couple?" Kitty questioned, her eyes wide open with anxiousness. Her childish expression caused Jean to chuckle. 

"What? No! Of course not!" Jean said almost automatically. The thought of Scott and her as a "couple" however, lingered within her thoughts. _Of course not_ she said softly again. Or was her mind just trying to cover up her hidden desire? Kitty looked around hesitantly and scooted closer to Jean. Everyone knew that Scott had been enamored with Jean since the beginning. Well, maybe Jean didn't know — but was that even possible? 

"You do know that Scott's been, like, crushing over you for the past year or so... right?" Kitty finally blurted out, unable to contain herself anymore. It was hard to fathom that Jean had no idea about his infatuation. Jean's eyes grew wide with disbelief. 

"Kitty... now's not the right time to get into this. Besides, Scott and I are... are just friends. Best friends, of course. Just best friends," Jean answered quickly. She swallowed hard to calm herself and her raging nerves. _Why am I being so defensive...?_

"Well, like, um... Jean... Be nice to him then," Kitty said in a hushed voice. Jean tilted her head, curious to where Kitty was going with this undesired conversation. 

"What I mean is that, like, don't lead him on. You can't do things like last night or something. And especially since you like, broke up with Duncan... he's gonna look at this as like his opportunity window or something," Kitty admitted finally. Jean just stared right back at her, partly infuriated that Kitty — of all people — was telling her this, and partly in shock over the truth about Scott and her that she had failed to notice. Jean immediately got up from the bed, her fists clenched tight, her body stiff. 

"You're wrong," Jean said knowingly. Kitty just shook her head. Jean didn't want to deal with the conversation anymore. With one more "you're wrong," she turned and immediately walked out of Kitty's room. She swung the door open and heard a loud thud. She gasped and peered around the door to see Rogue lying on the floor, one gloved hand pressed against her forehead. 

"I'm.. I'm sorry, Rogue," Jean exclaimed as she extended her hand down to her. Rogue blew it off and walked into her and Kitty's room, slamming the door behind her. Jean sighed and looked down at her watch. 

_4:00. Great. Party's in a few hours._ Jean rolled her eyes and walked to her room, one down from the other girls'. _And I _so_ feel like partying right now._

  
Jean stood in front of her full length mirror and checked her outfit one last time. It was a simple, tight white dress with black Mary Janes. _Ugh, it works_ she said to herself, frustrated that she was putting so much thought into what she was wearing. 

"Come on, Jean! We're gone be late!" Kurt called from the landing down the hall. Jean finished putting on her blush, grabbed her jean jacket from the bed and came rushing out the door. 

"I know, I know. Sorry." Kurt laughed and gave her a quick, reassuring smile. 

"It's fine, Jean. Besides, what's wrong with being fashionably late, eh?" Jean smiled weakly back, grateful that Kurt was there to calm her nerves. 

The two walked hurriedly out of the door to see Scott's car parked in front of them. Evan and Kitty were already in the back. Kurt bamfed in between the two and stretched his arms up lazily before wrapping his arm around Kitty. 

"Like, get OFF of me!" Kitty squealed, shoving Kurt away from her. Everyone in the car started laughing loudly. Jean let a few soft chuckles escape but stayed silent. She paced around the side of the car and sat down neatly into the passenger seat. She crossed her legs nervously and tightened the grip around her jacket. Even though she couldn't see Scott's eyes, she had a weird notion that he was checking her out. Scott shifted the gear and began to accelerate. 

"Wait!" a voice called from the entrance to the Institute. Scott braked the car with ease and turned to look, only to find Rogue rushing down the stone steps. 

"Whatever happened to the 'better things to do?'" Evan asked mockingly. Kitty and Kurt snickered. Rogue rolled her eyes and stuffed herself between Kitty and the car. If it wasn't packed before, it certainly was now. 

"Ah'm not gonna pass up an opportunity to be drinkin' alcohol, stupid," she snapped back. Jean shook her head and groaned. 

"Speak for yourself," Jean said sarcastically. 

"Like Ah'd speak for you?" Rogue responded instantly. Jean whipped her head around to see everyone in the back holding back fits of laughter. Rogue burst out laughing and waved her hand to calm herself. 

"Ah was jokin', Jean." 

"Sure," Jean grumbled, as she crossed her arms in the front seat. Scott rested his hand on the shifter and glanced over to Jean. 

"Come on — relax, Jean. It's a party." 

"Yeah. Can't wait," she replied bitterly. 

  
Scott leaned against the wall of Meredith's mansion. The place was enormous. And somehow, people had managed to fill it up entirely. He didn't like the thought of Jean being in the middle of the masses somewhere. Besides, he was rather bothered that her attitude had vanished once she stepped out of the car. At least he knew the _real_ Jean. 

It was hard for Scott to see through his glasses so he had to strain himself to look for familiar faces. He saw Kitty and Lance dancing within the multitudes of other dancers. And they both looked rather "friendly" with each other. Scott could feel a stab of jealousy inside of him. He attempted to shrug it off. _Well, at least they get to be with the person they want to be._ He couldn't take looking at them anymore and decided to relocate. He walked over into the living room (or what he could make out as the living room — it was now destroyed), only to find Jean downing a shot of something. He just stared at her apprehensively. She then grabbed another one from the coffee table and downed that too; everyone around her cheered. And through all the bodies he could see Duncan, holding two more shots waiting for her, a smirk on his face. Scott hadn't really ever seen Jean seriously drink before. And to top it off, she was with Duncan again. Without delay, Scott stomped out of the room indignantly. 

  
"Get your hands off of me!" Jean shrieked as Duncan began slipping his hands up her dress. He persisted only to be kicked away by her heel. He clutched his stomach momentarily before holding her wrists down to the bed. 

Duncan had led her upstairs to an unoccupied room. Jean was too intoxicated to comprehend what was going on until Duncan had taken the upper hand. Jean tried hopelessly to writhe out of his grasp but he was too strong. He leaned down and kissed her neck and then her lips. She bit down causing him to pull away and grasp his lip in pain. 

"You bitch!" he shouted, whipping the back of his hand against her face. Her eyes glazed over as tears began to flow from them. 

"No! Stop! Duncan... please!" Jean cried out, trying to push him off. He threw his thick, built body against her forcefully, knowing that he was much stronger than she. 

"No one says 'no' to me, Jean." 

  
Suddenly, Scott could hear Jean's mind ringing through his ears in a mind link: _SCOTT!_ He whipped around and ran over to a group of her friends that'd he had seen her with earlier. 

"Where did Jean go?!" Scott asked intensely, frustrated that some of her friends were too out of it to answer coherently. 

"I thinkkk.. that she went upstairs or somethingggg," one blonde girl said, clearly struggling to think and form a sentence. 

"What, is the bathroom up there?" he asked hopefully. 

"Yeah. YEAH, she _did_!" another one of the girls called out, giggling all the while, "With _Duncan_, I think." 

Even though the girls had kept talking ("She's watchinggg Duncan peee? Hee hee!" and "No silly, that boy was dumb. She didn't gooo to the bathrooooom"), Scott began racing towards the staircase and up to the second floor. He glanced frantically from side to side, hoping that he'd find her somewhere up here. He ran down the hall to the last door (for some reason, it was his first instinct) on the right. He tried turning the knob but it was locked. Desperately, he shot an optic blast at it, opening the door. He kicked it open and saw Jean crying, Duncan hovering over her. On impulse, Scott dashed into the room and punched Duncan across the face. Duncan rolled off the bed and stumbled backwards — the heavy blow leaving him flabbergasted. Jean looked up at Scott gratefully, her pride defeated and broken. He walked over, without saying anything, and scooped Jean up in his arms. She latched onto him defensively and hid her face into his chest. Without even looking at Duncan, he turned and walked out of the room, holding Jean protectively. 

"I'm here, Jean. I'm here." 

  


  
_Yeah so it's been a few days. I'm really sorry. Work has been taking up so much of my time. But hey, at least it's money. Anyhow, I've found some more inspiration and have picked up the story again. Please keep the feedback coming! Oh, and I am __very_ Lancitty. So I just had to throw that reference in — can you blame me? XD; 

- Sarah 


	8. Everything Felt Right

  
  
They hadn't left the party just yet — the others were still enjoying themselves, oblivious to what had happened. Jean and Scott were sitting alone on the shore next to the pond in the backyard. Scott's jacket was draped around Jean, his arm protectively wrapped around her. His other hand was pressed against her face, wiping the tears away. He had gotten Jean and himself outside without raising any questions. At least no one knew about what had happened, yet, that is. 

"...Did he hurt you?" Scott asked finally. Jean didn't say anything but curled in closer while shaking her head. Scott let out a sigh of relief. 

"No, Scott. You got there... just in time," Jean said, desperate to be close to Scott. He tightened his grip around her, sending chills down her spine. 

"I'm glad. I could never let anything happen to you." 

"My hero," she croaked out in jest. He smiled briefly at this, his fingers lightly moving across her arm. 

"Mmm, I was just thinking about something..." his voice trailed off as he lost himself in thought. Jean tilted her head, wanting him to go on. 

"Well, one night you were asleep and... and... I found your diary Jean—" she shook her head as he said this "—and I read this one entry about you and Duncan—" he gulped "—and how he told you about some things he was going to make you do or something and... I just, I didn't think that he would actually do that." By the end of his confession, Jean had pulled away from him, her legs curled up to her chest, her head resting on her knees. 

"You read that, huh?" she said whimsically. 

"Yeah... Sorry." 

"Oh, no. Don't be sorry. It's okay, really. I— I just didn't think anyone would actually read about my life and take interest in it..." Scott raised his hands in defense and shook his head. 

"I didn't mean to pry, really. But, how could someone not find your life interesting?" Jean turned her head sideways to look at him, her lips curled only slightly. 

"What else did you read in there?" Scott knew he couldn't lie to her. At least he could get this invasion of privacy off his chest. 

"Your first entry about the Institute. And every one of us that was there—" Jean's smile grew as she apparently remembered that entry, "—And um, the one about how you were officially a part of the X-Men... Oh, that was also the entry you said you had a crush on Duncan." 

"Duncan? Why would I have a crush on Duncan?" Jean asked honestly as she extended her legs out in front, her head still turned to look at Scott eye to eye — well, generally eye to eye. 

"Uh... Well, I, uh.." Before Scott could even say anything, Jean stood up and grasped the jacket around her. Scott questionably followed. 

"Can we please go get everyone else, I want to go home." 

"Yeah, Jean. That's fine." They started heading towards the house, Jean's head tilted down to shield her face; Scott knew she was still ashamed about what had happened and especially what could have happened if he hadn't have shown up. 

"Scott," she called out, stopping dead in her tracks. He turned to look at her, shrugging his shoulders in response. 

"Please don't tell them about this." He nodded in reply and walked towards her. His lean, strong hand slipped into hers as she stared up at him blankly. 

"I promise, Jean. Don't worry." Jean smiled. 

"When I'm with you.. I never do." 

  
Jean had successfully avoided everyone for the remainder of the night, burying her face in the books from the library of the Institute. No one had any idea about what had happened that night during the party. No one except Scott, that is. On her lap was a hardcover copy of _Lolita_, a novel she treasured. It was different, uncanny, and the character was so thought-provoking. A real head challenge. _Kinda like me..._ Jean thought monotonously. She was desperately trying to get the thoughts of Duncan out of her head. _And if it weren't for Scott, he would have..._

"Jean?" She instantly looked up from her reading to see Scott's tall silhouette etched out in the doorway. The book on her lap folded closed and fell to the side of her as she crossed her legs. 

"You okay?" he asked as he walked closer, the blaze from the fire place illuminating every step he took. She swallowed. Hard. There was no way she could say "no" — that would let him know she was weak. But then again, she felt like she could say "no" and that for once it would be okay. And that it'd be okay for him to hold her just so she could know someone was there that mattered — that cared. By the time she had finished this thought process, he was already standing right in front of her, a concerned and puzzled look plastered across his face. 

"No," she said quietly. Scott didn't utter a single word; instead, he knelt in front of her and rested his hands on her legs. 

"I don't want you to think on it too much, okay? You know nothing happened, we got you out of there in time. It's going to be okay — just you wait." Jean lifted her hand to his face, sliding it down the side of his jaw line. There was a bit of roughness — a stubble that tickled her fingers as she cupped his face gratefully. He still looked striking. 

"I'll be fine. It's just going to take a while, I think." 

"Can I help?" he questioned, his sunglasses reflecting the blaze from the fireplace. It magnified his features for some reason. She liked it. 

"I guess I could go for some ice cream." 

"Ice cream, eh? Well, I can help with that," Scott said with a wink. She slid off the chair and onto the floor next to him. Even if they were both sitting, he still towered over her. He stood up awkwardly, shifting his weight from side to side until he was finally balanced. His arm extended down to help Jean up, who made sure to keep her fingers intertwined with his as they walked to the kitchen. After they were staring into the freezer, they made their selection of plain vanilla and began digging in. 

"Hmph," Jean snorted stiffly, "Remember when we would sneak down here for ice cream, when we were younger?" Scott chuckled and nodded in reply. 

"Oh yeah, definitely. And I remember when Logan caught us that one time. For some reason he got so mad." Jean's laugh grew. 

"Yeah, well... I miss those days." At that, Scott shook his head forcefully. 

"You're wrong — we still have them." The thought struck Jean hard; she couldn't help but keep it on her mind. She was so blind lately — blinder than Scott had ever been. She didn't realize or understand a lot of things and this added to the pile. After they had cleared half of the carton they retreated to Scott's room where they sat cross-legged on his bed, facing each other. 

"Um, Jean. Can I... I can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?" Scott blurted out, unable to contain the question inside any longer. 

"I don't see why not... Why do you ask?" He gulped. 

"I uh... I uh... I just, I just think that you deserve to be treated right and I'd like to make up for what Duncan did to you," he said hastily. Jean felt flushed and light-headed. She really _was_ blind not to see Scott's crush on her. So what ever happened to the one she had on him? Truth be told, Jean still had one — she had always had one on him. And the fact that some popular jock was actually interested in her kept her away from that truth. Now, more then ever, she wished she could take back everything about Duncan. 

"Thanks. I'd love to," she said finally. His entire face lit up as he embraced her tightly. It was impossible for her to not hug him back. They held each other for long moments, cherishing every moment of the embrace. Jean's body felt so electrified when she was being held by Scott — his muscular arms secular fixed around her. It made her feel infinite. And like nothing else mattered. _Does he feel the same...?_

"Do you mind if I sleep in here again?" she inquired hopefully, knowing that he probably couldn't say no to that request. He nodded, though his face looked slightly scared; she was sure of what. Regardless, it was satisfying to know she'd be protected tonight. 

  
"Don't think my room's gonna become some official lodging for you though," Scott said in jest as Jean turned off the lights with her telepathy. She giggled and rolled over, beaming at him. 

"Just know that I'm the resident bum who stays here whenever she pleases." She could hear him snickering under his breath. 

"No complaints here, no complaints." Jean scooted in closer, pressing herself against Scott's body. His chest was bare, his lower half clad only in boxer shorts. And her own skin was relatively bare (a tank top and shorts), letting them experience the warmth of each other more easily. She felt so alive. 

The night had been surreal and even if she didn't want some of the parts to be true, she knew that other things wouldn't have happened otherwise. Scott was there to protect her just in time due to a mindlink he received. She didn't tell him, however, that she hadn't sent him the mind link. The only thing running through her mind as Duncan tried to deflower her was Scott; how Duncan wasn't right, how she needed Scott there, how she _wanted_ Scott there. 

"I'm so naive," Jean said, her voice barely above a whisper. Strands of fiery hair were strewn across Scott's chest, tickling him as she shifted her head. He looked down at her curiously. 

"Mm, it's nothing..." she said, unaware that her comment had been spoken, rather than thought. 

"No, not 'nothing.' What in the hell are you naive about?" 

"You." 

Somehow, Scott had taken that the wrong way. All Jean wanted was to say that she had no idea he was so enamored with her. But that would be presumptuous of her and she didn't want to deal with that right now. In hopes to repair the comment somehow, she slipped his hand into hers and brought it to her pouty lips. They softly brushed his knuckles and fingers before he quickly jerked his hand away. 

"W-what are you doing?" The last thing he needed was for her to lead him on again. Or for him to feel like he was taking advantage of her vulnerability. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she paused for a moment to recollect her thoughts. Jean inhaled deeply before resuming, "You are everything to me, Scott. My best friend — the most wonderful friend in the world. And I just, I don't know why I never pursued it to something more." She could feel his body grow stiff next to hers, the muscle in his arm twitching slightly. 

"We can talk about this tomorrow over dinner. We need some rest." 

"Right... sleep. Sure," Jean retorted sarcastically. Scott rolled on his side and wrapped his arms around Jean, holding her close to him. The sarcasm melted away with his embrace. 

Jean was all Scott could feel. And Scott was all Jean could feel. For once, everything felt right. 

  


  
_This chapter was more awkward to write than I imagined. It's strange, really. But that's okay. I promise more chapters soon. I'm trying to shift it to the romance now — the drama was just setting it up, I guess. Har har. _

- Sarah 


	9. All He Ever Wanted

  
  
_The light green...? The pink-striped one?_ Jean thought to herself, frantic that her outing — _Okay, okay, date_ — with Scott was only 10 minutes away. Unfortunately, she cared so much about this definitive 'date' primarily because she had a feeling something would result. Something much bigger than a friendship. It left her deathly anxious — and frantic. She heard a knock on the door. 

"Just a minute!" she called, slipping the pink-striped skirt on and fastening the clasp at her hip. She walked hastily to the door and latched it open. Scott was barely an inch from her; it caught her off guard. 

"You're early! So don't even say anything about me being late! I need five more minutes so don't think that you can—" but Jean was cut off unexpectedly. Scott pressed his desiring lips against her startled ones. Jean froze. Scott rested his hands on her shoulders, then ran them down the side of her arm, behind her back. Before she had time to react for herself, Jean felt herself surrendering to the kiss. Her hand slipped behind his neck, her fingers interlocking with his brunette strands. The pressure of their kiss increased, her hand pressing hard against the back of his head, his tongue slowly gliding into her mouth, hers mirroring the assault. Scott's fingers were gliding up her back, tickling her slightly. Before she could control her telekinesis, she could hear Scott's thoughts pounding in her head. 

_All I ever wanted... Now... Yes... Jean... Perfect._

The last comment brought reality crashing down around her. She pulled away, regrettably. Scott stared down at her, confused, in awe, alive. She couldn't pinpoint what he was feeling. Except that he was grinning ridiculously. Jean felt sick. 

"Scott, I..." he hushed her by pressing his finger gently against her mouth. He took her hand in his and led her down the halls, outside and to the garage. He opened the door of his car for her, then jumped into his seat and had them on the road in no time, the grin still stuck on his face. 

"Well," she finally said, to break the silence between them. The sound of the engine and the breeze was beginning to annoy her, "Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked. He glanced over to her, his grin finally gone, one eyebrow arched. He then turned his focus back to the road. 

"What do you want me to say?" 

"What _was_ that, Scott?" 

"Well, Jean. Sometimes, they call it a kiss." Jean threw her hands up in frustration and huffed to show her dislike for his answer. 

"Don't act that way, it's unflattering," she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. He glanced over at her once more, this time with an amused smirk across his face. Scott chuckled. 

"You're so cute when you're angry." 

"Drive, Scott. Just drive." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

  
Scott parked the car in front of Proietti's, a quaint Italian restaurant that Jean had always loved. The tables were lit by candles, the walls decorated with even more candles; all the while, soft jazz music played in the backdrop. Scott guided her to a table, his arm draped over her shoulders. No matter how hard she thought she didn't want his arm there, her body didn't resist once. They sat down at their table; Jean immediately hid her face behind the menu. 

"Why the attitude? I thought you liked this place," Scott said, wanting Jean to lighten up. 

"I do," she snapped back from behind the menu, "But," she set the menu down, "how can you expect me to _not_ be like this after that little stunt you pulled?" 

"Stunt? Jean... Jean, it was just a kiss." 

"Ugh! 'Just a kiss,' you say? Scott, that wasn't just a kiss, that was—" 

"The _best_ kiss you've ever had. Admit it," Scott said lightly. She scowled. 

"You can't make me, Mr. Summers." 

"So you _did_ like it! See!" Scott said triumphantly, smiling all the while. 

"I never said that!" 

"Sure," he teased. 

"I didn't," she muttered under her breath. The menu shot up in front of her once again as she tried to separate herself from the conversation. _Why are you lying to yourself, Jean?_ she scolded. She laid the menu back down, startled to see that Scott was in the exact same position, his smile unwavering. 

"Maybe a little," she admitted sheepishly, her leg crossing over the other as she said this. It knocked against Scott's foot, who took the opportunity to slide in closer and massage his khaki-clad leg against her bare one. He rested his chin in his hand. 

"Just a little?" 

"Maybe a lot," Jean said finally, Scott's smile growing (if that was even possible at this point). 

"Are you playing footsie with me, Mr. Summers?" she asked in jest, cocking her head back. He didn't say anything. Instead, he took her hand and kissed the knuckles lightly. 

"Je vous ai aimé depuis le début du temps," he said seductively. Jean raised an eyebrow and pulled her hand away. 

"What.. what does that mean?" He put his chin in his hand again, smirking coolly. 

"It means that 'yes, I'm playing footsie with you, Jean Grey,'" Jean rolled her eyes. 

"Sure it does." 

"Really — go ask Remy." 

"Oh? He taught you how to say that? Okay, Scott — that's believable." 

"Okay, don't believe me," he said defensively. 

"Then tell me the truth." 

"Fine, fine. I said 'I have loved you since the beginning of time,'" Scott said, his face scared of the coming response. Jean breathed deeply. 

"....Really?" 

"Yeah, 'really.'" 

"Scott..." she stared at him longingly. Somehow, it seemed that the table between him and her was the only thing keeping Jean from jumping into Scott's arms at this very moment. 

"What'll it be, kids?" an elderly woman interrupted, who was clearly their waitress. Scott glanced at Jean, then at the waitress, then Jean one more time. Jean smiled. Scott turned to the waitress with a grin: 

"Two classic spaghetti dishes, one with extra sauce, and a side of garlic bread. And two waters." 

Jean had always wanted someone who would know exactly what she wanted for dinner. Scott was perfect for the part. 

  
After a lively dinner, they retreated to the look-out spot that was thankfully deserted. They had both ignored the comment Scott had said before the waitress had come into the picture. For some reason, neither of them could bring themselves to talking about that awkward moment. Jean desperately wanted to, now more than ever. Scott parked the car and popped the trunk. He went around the back, grabbed a blanket and laid it out across the ground. Jean got out of the car tentatively and stared suspiciously at blanket. 

"You planned this, didn't you?" 

"I hoped for it," he replied cockily, plopping himself onto his brilliant plan (the blanket). Hesitantly, Jean sat down stiffly next to him. It took everything in her power to keep her from pinning him to the ground and kissing him endlessly. 

"So..." 

"What?" 

"What's going on, Scott?" 

"Uh, well, uh..." 

"Wait, you know what — don't answer that," she said quickly. On impulse, Jean did what she thought she could not. She thrust herself forward, stopping only because of the pleasant impact with his lips. _It's my turn to startle you_ Jean sent to him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Scott leaned in, holding Jean tightly within his protective arms. He then slid his hands up her side, one cupping her neck, the other holding her jaw, in hopes to draw her in. She submitted herself to him, letting her body melt with his. The kiss lasted for an eternity; at least that's how long it felt for Scott. It was everything he had ever wanted — Jean Grey. In the flesh. Openly kissing him. The real thing. It was impossible for him to not get overly excited; his entire body trembled with anxiousness. Jean dug her hand into his back before pulling away from the kiss that she hoped would never end. They left their foreheads pressed together, both their noses nuzzling every so often. Jean sighed heavily, her eyes staring straight into Scott's shielded ones. 

"Is it safe for me to call you 'mine?'" he asked, using several breaths to get the sentence out. 

"I... I..." _Oh, fuck it all_ she thought, as she leaned in again. He waited a moment before doing the same, adding anticipation and added desire to the kiss. 

"I'll take that as a maybe," he said with a grin. Jean squeezed his hand and rested her head on his broad shoulder. 

"You can take that as a yes, Scott." 

Scott's lips curled as he rested his head atop hers. It _was_ all he could have wanted. Ever. 

  


  
_All I can say is... It's about time :) _

Oh and, feedback is my friend! Thank you in advance. 

- Sarah 


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